Service Learning Reflections

As I am now done with my required service learning for this class, I feel that this is an appropriate time to wrap-up this up. Going into my service learning at the Fish Food Bank, I didn't know what to expect. After all, Fish Food Bank aims to feed over 230,000 Pierce County residents in need, and the community service I have done previously never involved spending time at a food bank, let alone in a diverse city like Tacoma. To be honest, I was more than a little nervous going into it. All in all though, I would say that it was a positive, new experience because it taught me a lot during the somewhat limited hours I spent there. Although I mainly helped sort donations and count up the totals, I was able to get to know some of the other volunteers well as a result of this. All the volunteers had their own story to tell; some chose to be there and some were there to fulfill some needed community service hours. Some had been doing this type of volunteer work their whole life, and for some like me, this was their first food bank experience. Seeing how many people needed the assistance of the food bank really opened my eyes to the existence of poverty and hunger that is prevalent in even our local society. There is something about putting in the time to help others that is really rewarding, and that's why I'd like to keep volunteering my time to help these people out. It's definitely an issue that needs to be brought to the open because I think that most people are probably just like I was before; not necessarily uncaring but just not aware. I think we should do what we can to help the less fortunate; at least that's my plan for now.

My influences and my dad's decisions

Today in class as we were discussing college, and how we were guided (or not) by our families, high schools, etc, to attend college, it brought the story of my dad's childhood to mind. My dad, who is half-Hispanic, was raised in Tucson, AZ, in a family of seven, being in the middle of two brothers, and the younger brother of two sisters. They didn't have much of anything as he grew up. His mother worked as much as she could so that she could provide a little food, clothes, and shelter while his father was abusive, alcoholic, and didn't care about his kids. To make a long story short, my dad didn't have an easy childhood, and definitely was never encouraged to try to go to college, let alone finish high school.
Today we discussed how society makes options like getting out of poverty, more or less available to people and how most Americans believe that everyone has the ability to choose their path, ie; their economic status, occupation, etc. Yes, society makes some options more or less available, and yes, most of the time Americans don't choose their economic status and occupation, but in my dad's case I think he did choose his path. His two brothers still to this day live in Arizona, abusing the welfare system, bouncing regularly from job-to-job, and practically abandoning their children. If my dad would've stayed in Arizona, he might've ended up going down a similar path but at some point in his young life, he decided that he didn't like where he had ended up. He did the best thing he could've done for himself; he left Arizona, his brothers, his abusive father, and moved to Oregon to start over.
My dad is the hardest worker I've ever met. He finished school, and got a job at Weyerhaeuser, and has been working there for the past twenty-some years. His strong work ethic enabled his to be able to work his way up the corporate ladder and he's quite successful I'd say.
I think because of the childhood that my dad had, he's tried extra hard to push both my sister and I in the direction of furthering our educations and he's taught us to never settle for less than our best. My mom and him started setting aside money for us to go to school because they wanted us to be as successful as possible. My dad chose to change his life, and his story pushes me to work hard and make the most of the education that my dad was never able to get growing up.
His Hispanic roots hindered him at some points, and also got him in some doors that maybe would not have been open to him if he hadn't had that minority status. I use the quarter-Hispanic on applications for the sake of having that minority status but I don't really tell anyone about it unless they ask me about my last name because nobody really believes me... I don't think I look too traditionally Hispanic either. Ha.

NPR and the threats of color... or not

One of the NPR interviews that I listened to was of a frantic white woman who was concerned that because of the election of Barack Obama, blacks would rise against the majority population and retaliate for all the sins of the past against their minority group. My initial reaction was thinking that this lady was being ridiculous but this lead me to start considering this subject along with another idea that was developing in my mind simultaneously. In class we discussed this woman, and how she, along with many others, are uncomfortable with the idea of a group of strong blacks. Maybe it's just me, but I'm not anymore afraid of a group of strong blacks than I am the idea of a group of strong whites. I think the idea of any strong group that goes against what is lawful or right is frightening, regardless of skin color, because violence isn't limited to skin color, and I think we all know that. We also discussed how many white peoples' worst fear is strong blacks, and all I have to say to that is, says who? That assumption upsets me. What I want to know is, why is everything so focused on an image or skin color? Personally I know that I would be just as scared to be approached by a group of white guys that I didn't know as I would be to be approached by a group of black guys guys.

Discussion of "Reparations"

Today in class when Gillian presented the story of woman who walked around a city, wearing a shirt that said "pay reparations here," I was shocked by the responses that a lot of my fellow class mates gave in response to the question if they would've given the woman money. I don't know why anyone in this generation should feel guilty about the racism and terrible oppression that has been pushed upon African Americans in the past unless they are directly, actively racist today. I'm not denying that what whites did to this group of people isn't horrific, or that racism and oppression don't still exist today, but I don't feel responsible for this because I don't partake in it. Yes, I'm not actively anti-racist like I know I should be, and I will be trying harder not to be passive anymore, but I don't feel like I should be held accountable for the poor choices of other members in the dominate white society. I think this isn't fair or right, and that's why I wouldn't give that woman any money. I understand her purpose, and I would tell her how sorry I was for all the injustices that exist in society but also that I don't support those actions, and therefore don't see it as part of my responsibility to give her money for something that I didn't have anything to do with.

Service Learning

Last friday afternoon I spent a few hours down at the Fish Food Bank where a couple of my fellow classmates were also working. However, I had to get there a little later than them due to a few minor incidents so when I arrived there, they already had their assigned tasks and I ended up being separated from them. This ended up being okay because I got paired with this very sweet old lady named Martha (who incidentally reminded me a lot of my grandma), who was in charge of weighing and keeping track of all the donations that came into the food bank. We got to talking and she told me all about her life; how her husband died four years ago, and how they used to have a house up here in Washington and one in Arizona but that after her husband died she sold off the one in Arizona and now she wishes she hadn't, how she used to be a birthing nurse and it was an amazing experience, and how she's been doing volunteer work her whole life. My point of explaining our conversations was because I was almost taken aback by how willing she was to open up to me and tell me all about her life. It made me happy that she thought I was someone worth sharing her life's story with, and with the work that we were doing, putting out and counting the donations, it was a good day. It felt good.
One interesting thing I want to add about the day was Martha's need of a watchful eye. She pointed out a jar of mayo that someone had set aside in a dish rack, where it had been intentionally hidden away from the rest of the donations. She told me to watch to see who of the workers had taken it and set it aside for themselves. This caught me off guard because I had never thought to watch the other volunteer workers because, I don't know, I wouldn't think that someone would just take donated items like that away from the people that really need them but apparently they do. I just thought that was terrible. Incidentally, I never saw anyone take it by the time I was leaving, so I wonder whatever came of that mayo and who of those people I had been working with would even do that.

"The Rape" of Mr. Smith

This passage outraged me. Having never witnessed the proceedings of a rape case before, it greatly upsets me that a rape victim would be treated in this same, blatently apathetic way, as Mr. Smith, a hold-up victim. Why would a court not show sympathy or look into the perpetrator's background more than the victim's? What kind of corruption is this? It's like another passage that we read, that discussed how women who dressed-up or were "done-up" were practically asking for some sort-of catcall or negative comment from a male or passerby on the street? How could anyone say that Mr. Smith "deserved" to be robbed because he was walking on the street, at night, with a nice suit on? What the hell is that all about?

Response to "How Homophobia Hurts Everyone"

This is isn't to say that I disagreed with every idea presented in this essay, but there were a couple main points that stuck out to me the most though. One of which, that I strongly disagreed with was the statement that 'Homophobia inhibits the ability of heterosexuals to form close, intimate relationships with members of their own sex.' This paragraph elaborated that when adolescents hit puberty, their elders encourage them to stop spending as much time together, so as not to give off the idea that they are homosexual or "more than just friends" per say. Maybe this is just an older idea, but I completely disagree with this statement. It's been my experience, if anything, to have the opposite occur, so as not to give the idea that you are 'sexually active' or even 'promiscuous' but never have I been discouraged to stop spending time with someone of the same sex as me. Has anyone actually ever had this happen to them? I'd be really interested to hear about their experience if they were interested in sharing.