Today, as part of my practicum work, I ran two sessions on bullying at camp and abuse & disclosure. To be totally honest, I was so nervous.
I wanted to make sure that I was communicating the best I could, equipping the (entire) camp staff with the information and tools needed to deal with these issues.
I also wanted to make sure that these kids would be safe and cared for, no matter what had happened to them in the past or what is happening to them currently.
I'm in school for a Social Science degree, with a concentration in Counselling - I had this plan to go into a Masters of Social Work or Counselling and work with women or children in abusive situations... but I don't think I ever really felt as convicted in my studies until now. After researching, talking to RCMP officers, and learning about interviewing children, I've had this knot of anticipation growing in my stomach, like this excitable passion and deep care for these issues. Like, I actually care about sharing this information to the staff, and I actually care that these kids are being taken care of.
This is (k)not really a new experience - I've had knots and passions like this before. But never so clearly have I seen my future in these passions. I'm at this age now where I'm figuring out what I can reasonably do for a career, which is scary as well as exciting. And it's especially exciting when seemingly inconsequential situations just fall into a place where passion and purpose meet..
I ended up in university because all my friends were going to the same one. Some strangers from BC ended up coming to the same university, either thinking it was just going to be a year or having plans in the minds that changed as time went on. We didn't really think about it. My original roommate dropped out before September, and my actual roommate needed a roommate after only deciding she was coming back a few weeks before. We all ended up on the same floor, ended up getting along, ended up bonding over drinks and similar experiences of being new and shy. Those strangers became some of my best friends within such a short amount of time, that I couldn't even (and still can't) believe that such friendships could happen.
Despite hating the Intro Psychology courses, I decided to power through and try other specified Psych courses, and ended up falling in love with curiosity and the human psyche.
One of those strangers talked about her experience working up at a camp in BC. My roommate decided to try it for a summer. Coming back with a sun-kissed tan full of memories, she encouraged me to apply. I did, despite the fact that I'd hope to stay in Winnipeg for sake of ease. It certainly wasn't an easy decision or an easy summer, but I ended up being sucked into this incredible community of caring Christians and expanding my idea of what it meant to be "Christian."
And after the hardest year of my life, I decided to come back - this time, camp was an easy choice because I needed a social service practicum.
And here I am. Not really knowing what will happen this summer, what I will learn, how I will grow and be challenged, and not really knowing where the choices I make now will take me later.
But I'm excited to continue and to look back and see all the inconsequential choices adding up to a less-than inconsequential path.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Office work
Here are some small tidbits of my work week in the camp office.
I emailed maaaany parents reminding them about their lack of consent forms for camp. I got to an email that had johnlock in the address, and it reminded me of Sherlock and made me cry tears of joyous wonder.
*I now know what working for the weekend means (to watch Netflix in bed with hot tea and back pain)
*I'm starting to hear phantom phone rings
*typing out so many obscure email addresses makes me lose confidence in my typing accuracy and ability
*I find so many puns among email addresses and last names that I wish someone were here for me to tell them (rather than mutter it under my breath and giggle to myself in a near-empty office)
*to the email address thspooner: your email probably makes a lot of sense to you, likely using initials, but to me your email address makes me think of this
I emailed maaaany parents reminding them about their lack of consent forms for camp. I got to an email that had johnlock in the address, and it reminded me of Sherlock and made me cry tears of joyous wonder.
*I now know what working for the weekend means (to watch Netflix in bed with hot tea and back pain)
*I'm starting to hear phantom phone rings
*typing out so many obscure email addresses makes me lose confidence in my typing accuracy and ability
*I find so many puns among email addresses and last names that I wish someone were here for me to tell them (rather than mutter it under my breath and giggle to myself in a near-empty office)
*to the email address thspooner: your email probably makes a lot of sense to you, likely using initials, but to me your email address makes me think of this
Monday, June 9, 2014
Translink Adventures
If anyone knows Vancouver transit, you'll probably relate. If you don't, quick rundown
Today, I skipped down the street (more like trudged along with my amazingly heavy backpack), FareSaver and $1.25 in various change in my hand, to catch my bus taking me back to the grand ‘ole city of Vancouver. To the relief of my wallet, the ticket machine was broken – I screamed a little YES! in my head.
- There are 3 zones - Vancouver (1), around Vancouver (2), and hella far from Vancouver (3)
- Each zone is $2.75. If you wanna ride 2 zones, it's $4.00. If you wanna ride all 3 zones, might as well stay home because it's $5.50
- There are buses, Skytrains, and seabuses.
- No one from North Vancouver ever leaves North Van.. unless it's a "special occasion."
I work in West Vancouver, which is just around Vancouver, meaning I must travel 2 zones on my hour long commute to and from work ($8.00 total, I love it).
Today, I skipped down the street (more like trudged along with my amazingly heavy backpack), FareSaver and $1.25 in various change in my hand, to catch my bus taking me back to the grand ‘ole city of Vancouver. To the relief of my wallet, the ticket machine was broken – I screamed a little YES! in my head.
The bus was completely packed, so I was squished standing in
the middle between some old ladies sitting who didn’t speak English and a
mother holding a baby and a stroller desperately trying not to bang her baby’s
head against someone or something. I
heard a small voice from behind another woman say, “Do you want me to take him,
Mom?” The exasperated mother passed her
baby over to her young daughter, who proceeded to bounce him on her knee and
point him out the window. The entire bus was taken by this little
drooling lump of smiles; women were baby-talking to him, men were smiling and
making faces at him – myself included.
I chatted up the mom a little bit, telling her that he was
already quite the ladies man, despite the drool. She said, “he takes after his older
brothers!” to which I replied, “I hope not with the drooling, too!” (insert
raucous laughter here)
When I continued onto the Skytrain, I stood beside some
extroverted Australian couples talking about a variety of topics, from war
stories to shady pipeline deals to how “this generation doesn’t know anything
about real work.” I noticed one of the gentlemen had a ying-yang tattoo on his hand, which gave me a glimpse of what this generation would look like in 50 years with all our tattoos..
Just listening to their conversations made me feel connected to them and their topics, even though I was much too shy to say anything and have nothing to add to them (except for "I have WORKED, believe me"). There’s this unspoken rule on public transit - I’m sure you’ve all felt it - that you get on and only speak to those you’ve come on with. Although this norm is useful when a) you’re tired and have spent your last amount of emotional energy, b) you’ve spotted someone you probably shouldn’t talk to, or c) you have been spotted as one of those people, it’s sometimes a great joy to talk to people on transit. You never know what kind of shared connection or experience you could have, which is what I probably learned last summer but has been really apparent in this week alone.
Just listening to their conversations made me feel connected to them and their topics, even though I was much too shy to say anything and have nothing to add to them (except for "I have WORKED, believe me"). There’s this unspoken rule on public transit - I’m sure you’ve all felt it - that you get on and only speak to those you’ve come on with. Although this norm is useful when a) you’re tired and have spent your last amount of emotional energy, b) you’ve spotted someone you probably shouldn’t talk to, or c) you have been spotted as one of those people, it’s sometimes a great joy to talk to people on transit. You never know what kind of shared connection or experience you could have, which is what I probably learned last summer but has been really apparent in this week alone.
OH, and a few stops before mine, two men in their late 40’s
came on the bus reeking of weed. Ahh,
BC. How I missed you..
BC DREAMIN'
So I'm back.
This time, I'm in BC!
I've left my wide-open prairie skies and traded them for mountain walls.
This is my second summer out here, working at camp and trying not to laugh too rudely at kids [sometimes they just say the dumbest things, I'm sorry, I can't handle it].
Some funny things have happened to me. And I've decided to write more [publicly]!
So here it is. It isn't much, but it's something.
This time, I'm in BC!
I've left my wide-open prairie skies and traded them for mountain walls.
This is my second summer out here, working at camp and trying not to laugh too rudely at kids [sometimes they just say the dumbest things, I'm sorry, I can't handle it].
Some funny things have happened to me. And I've decided to write more [publicly]!
So here it is. It isn't much, but it's something.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)