Artist in the Making

I have been a Jesuit Volunteer for 2 months. Wow, that really amazes me! These past 2 months have flown by with a whirlwind of meet-and-greets, community and spirituality nights, soccer games at the Y, hanging out with my community, and attending free or low cost events throughout the city. My job has changed many times (with the most recent change happening this past week—no more Spanish class).

Discussions with some friends this past week really got me thinking about how I want approach this year. I feel as though I have tried to portray my job in an accurate way and I want to continue to do that, no matter my experience. A former Jesuit Volunteer told us a few weeks ago that JVC isn’t about liking your job. It is about serving, learning about the injustices of society, and sharing those with others so they can learn from your experiences, too. I attempt to paint a picture for others that represents my reality. If 80% of my day is stressful (student fighting, disorder, lack of learning, etc.) and 20% is rewarding (working with small groups outside of the classroom, mentoring my coworker, listening to my students’ problems, etc.), then I express those feelings in the proportions that I experience. I refuse to put on an act. Good and bad, I want those I care about to have an accurate portrayal of my year. I pray that you’ll see it as me being ‘real’ versus negative. I hope that those proportions will get more even or even reverse before my year is over!

When I wrote my sister Sara about the overwhelming number of changes that need to occur at my school in order for these children to experience success, she shared some inspirational words with me. She wrote, “Most importantly. Don’t fear. If you haven’t fixed everything at the end of your time there, well it’s not failure because you’ll still have succeeded in making some change for the better. Right? Get excited. You have a canvas that is grotesque and you can use ANY colors you want to paint it beautiful. You are the artist. Let your creativity flow and be confident that the painting you end up with in May will be far lovelier than what you see today.”

Her words encouraged me. I look at this past week and try to count all of the little changes, or brush strokes that I added to my canvas. I have 2 students who are reading novels at home and when they finish work. They are not only staying out of trouble in class, but also enriching their learning experience. During my lunch period, I’ve started tutoring an eighth grader in Spanish. He has learned to say his name, the difference between feminine and masculine words, and even gained a greater understanding of the “macho” culture evident in many Latino cultures. I had another student proudly tell me, “I’ve been so much better today, Miss Swanson. Don’t you think?” All of those experiences were drops of yellow falling onto my experience.

Right now, my canvas is a dark, saddening mixture of blue, black, brown, and gray. In the corners and across my large canvas are drops of yellow, red, pink, and orange. I am hopeful that those drops will turn into splatters, which in turn will become blotches and so on. Realistically, I know that when I leave next August that the canvas will still have darkness, but I’m confident it’ll be much prettier and filled with color.