Kids have a lot of creative energy.  But, alas!  They all too often use it on the wrong things.

It was homework/reading time during SPARK (the afterschool program in which I serve) the other day.  One of the boys, “Dale,” came into the room where the kids work on their homework.  He had just been in the reading room.  He doesn’t like reading.

“Can I have a piece of paper to practice my math on?”

“Sure.”

I watched him pick up a couple of pieces of large white paper.  This paper, was, naturally, not what I would think of as being appropriate for practicing your math equations, but I let it go.

Then he started folding the paper.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a hat for my sister.”

I took his piece of paper off of the table.

“Making a hat for your sister does not qualify as homework.”

He stared at me with this ”Huh?” look.  So I elaborated.

“In other words, if you’re going to be in here, you need to be working on homework.  If you’re not working on homework, then you need to go in the other room and read.”

He just stood there with his shoulders slouched and his brows furrowed.   It was as if the top of his skull had just popped open and I could see the wheelworks turning in his head.  I prepared myself for some excuses  A lengthy silence ensued in which I stared at him and he stared at me.

“Well,”  he said.  “I have to make a diagram of the solar system for class.  Can I do that?”

“Yes.”  (Personally, I had some doubts about these solar system claims, but I had no way of knowing for sure, and at least it was an educational activity.)

So, he got out a pencil.  And some markers.  And then he looked in his brother’s textbook to see the order of the planets.  And he started drawing the solar system.  Then his dad arrived to pick him up.  And what did he do with his solar system diagram?

If you guessed wadded it up and threw it away, you would be correct.

Oh, that kid.

This past week was my last week in the school.  So, I got to be the recipient of a lot of nice good-bye messages.

“Mondays were my favorite days.”

“Are you coming back next year?”

“Why are you going to Michigan?  What’s there?  You should stay here.”

“I’ll miss you.”

And of course, a lot of “Awwww”s and “Good-bye”s.

But back to those creative energies.  On my last day I gave the kids a post-test of all of the anti-bullying info that I had been teaching them throughout the year just to get an idea of how well everything had stuck in their heads.

I was back at the community center grading them when I stumbled upon one that made me laugh out loud.

I had given the kids a couple of different acronyms to help them remember things that bystanders, bullies, and victims could do.  The letters were on the test for them, but they had to remember what each letter stood for.  One of the letters was a U.  And one of the kids clearly did not remember what that letter stood for.

But did he go the boring, predictable route and leave it blank?

No, siree.

He made up his own suggestion.

“Use yoga techniques.”

Oh, that kid.

Sometimes I think that if I ever get a full-fledged teaching job I might give kids, like, I don’t know, let’s say an  1/8 of a point if their silly answers to my test questions amuse me.

Because, after all, I do like to be amused.

And kids are amusing.

Elizabeth L. is a long-term volunteer at CAP’s Eagle Child and Family Development Center. She is a member of the McCreary Volunteer Community. 

This year at WorkFest some of the long-term volunteers put on a skit about what it’s like to be a volunteer. We focused mainly on funny (but true) realities of volunteer life:

“Being a volunteer is having a year’s supply of expired Gatorade.”

“Being a volunteer is eating three lunches a day because you can’t say no to your elderly participants.”

“Being a volunteer is renaming the men’s room the MAN’s room because you’re the only guy in a house full of girls.”

“Being a volunteer is rush hour traffic stuck behind a tractor.”

“Being a volunteer is leaning over the railing of the back porch, extending your arm as far as it can go, and yelling into your cell phone to try to get reception.”

“Being a volunteer is waking up in the morning to discover that you’re wearing the same CAP shirt as someone else in the house.”

“Being a volunteer is having someone give you directions that sound like this: ‘Go down the road and take a left at the third barn. Then you’re going to go over a stone bridge and pass a tree that’s leaning over the road. When you pass the chickens turn right and go up the hill until you get to the old store, only it’s not a store anymore, and is just kind of a falling down barn…’”

What we didn’t talk about was the challenge and blessing we call a community. In the next 10 days two members of the Jackson Hood (what we call our house) will leave Kentucky. I knew this was coming – it’s what happens in a program where you commit to a year of volunteering: people leave when their year is up (well, most people anyway). But when you’re living in community, you have to forget that your housemates are only going to be with you a year. You have to commit to a relationship with them, even though you know you’ll eventually go your separate ways. I’ve been blessed with an amazing community this year. It hasn’t always been easy, but we’ve worked through our difficulties and come out stronger because of them. Last night one of my departing housemates came into the living room and asked “Why do people ever leave this place?” That’s a hard question to answer, and one that I apparently haven’t figured out yet (seeing as I’m not leaving), but I think that leaving is part of the experience and part of what makes volunteering with CAP so valuable. Sure, it’s a big step to leave your friends, family, and job to come to rural Kentucky and work for no money, but like anything else, once you’re here, it becomes comfortable. You meet wonderful people, you feel like you’re making a difference, and you’re supported in your faith by everyone that you live and work with. Real life isn’t like that, and I think that’s why we have to go back to real life. We all learn so many things through our service and our community, and if no one ever left, those lessons would never leave Kentucky. Part of our service is going back to where we came from and sharing our experience with others who will never have the chance to live and work here. Transitions have always been hard for me, and I’ve been thinking a lot lately about why that is. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s the uncertainty of what’s next that I struggle with. I don’t know what my relationships are going to look like when I’m not living in the same house or city as someone. I don’t know if I’ll connect with the next group of volunteers. I don’t know what my life is going to be like when I eventually do leave CAP. There’s a lesson in that, too – a lesson about trust and about appreciating what’s happening right now without looking too far ahead. So as I say my “see-you-laters” (not goodbyes!), I’m trying very hard to focus on being grateful that these “see-you-laters” are so hard to say. It shows that I’ve had people in my life who I care about and who have helped me grow. And hey – now I’ll have somewhere to stay in Georgia and Wisconsin!

“Beginnings are usually scary and endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts. You have to remember this when you find yourself at the beginning.” – Sandra Bullock

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming. She is a member of the Jackson Volunteer Community and she recently extended for another term of service.

When working with children, it’s pretty typical for them to ask about your personal life, and they are especially interested in whether you’re married or have any kids. In Kentucky, not only do they ask, but they express concern if you are not where they expect you to be in life.

For a long time, my favorite story on this topic was a little boy who asked me if I was married. When I told him I wasn’t, he looked at me for a second and said “Well, you’re pretty enough to be.” Very sweet, if a little misguided about what is important for a marriage.

This story was more than surpassed last week by a group of Girl Scouts I was driving home from camp. Naturally, the first thing one of the girls asked me was if I was married. When I told her I wasn’t, a different girl (we’ll call her Annie) replied “Oh, so you’re lonely.” Not a question, but a statement. I was pretty much speechless for a few seconds, but then recovered with “Actually, I’m not lonely – I live with seven other people.” This impressed them. “Seven people?” “Wow, you really aren’t lonely.” “How big is your house?” But Annie wasn’t convinced. “Oh, I thought you were one of those women with a lot of cats.”

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming. She is a member of Jackson Volunteer Community.

About a month and a half ago I made two important and somewhat scary decisions. The first was to run a half-marathon and the second was to extend my time at Christian Appalachian Project.

I’ll talk about CAP first. My decision to extend was not a sudden one – the possibility had been weighing on the back of my mind pretty much since I arrived. I remember sitting on the dock at Camp AJ during orientation with my housemate Sarah. We were talking about volunteering and Kentucky and about how we liked it here and were excited about our work, but please-God-don’t-make-us-stay another year. (Ironically, she is also recommitting.) As the months went by, the nagging feeling that I should stay grew stronger as I fell more in love with teaching. Last Friday, I met with the volunteer life manager and officially recommitted. She warned me that it isn’t going to be easy, which I know, especially because most of my house (and the other volunteers I know) will be leaving.

It’s particularly scary for me because I tend to be the one who moves away (to Chicago after high school and to Kentucky after college), and I know it will be challenging to “stay behind” as my housemates go on to other adventures. But I also know that this is the right choice for me. I feel it when I go into the schools and the kids tell me how much they miss me already. I feel it when the teachers are talking about various upcoming programs and all I want to do is be a part of them. I feel it when I attend the local health coalition meetings and hear about long-term projects that I will actually see the results of. I even felt it on my way back to the Jackson House from Easter with my family. As I got off the interstate and onto the local highways, I looked at the beauty around me and felt peace. It was very reassuring to feel that way, because as beautiful as my rural surroundings are, I miss being in a city. But as a friend recently pointed out to me – if you wait to make a decision until you have an option that is absolutely perfect, you’ll never make a decision. It’s been hard for me being away from my family in Ohio and my friends in Chicago, but I know that Kentucky is where I need to be right now. It’s really exciting to tell the students that I will see them next year and to know that I have another school year in which to build my relationship with them.

The decision to run the half-marathon was much more sudden. A few of my housemates had been talking about running one for months, but they were struggling to find a race within reasonable driving distance (Jackson County, KY is not known for its superior runners.) I offered my parents’ house as a free place to stay and figured that I would run a shorter distance race if one was offered. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a shorter distance, and I was somehow talked into signing up for the half marathon. With only a month to train, I wasn’t convinced I was going to be able to finish it, but I figured the strict work-out schedule would be good for me. I am very talented at making up excuses for myself as to why it’s okay not to work out on a particular day – it was a long day at work, it was too hot/cold/windy, I had eaten too big of a lunch, etc – but with a limited amount of time to train, I HAD to follow the schedule. Of course, I did end up skipping a few days, but I definitely got better at self-motivating. Up until a couple weeks before the race, I still wasn’t sure I’d be able to finish, but then all of a sudden I felt like I could do it. My 10-mile run (the longest on the training schedule) went really well, and on race day I was feeling pretty confident. Unfortunately, it didn’t go exactly as planned. I blame the heat and the more-frequent-than-expected hills, but I ended up having to walk part of the race. I did finish though, and I was able to push myself to run the last mile.

On a list of things I never thought I’d be doing, running in a half marathon would have been pretty high up on the list. Before coming to Kentucky I had never run farther than four miles, and even that was a painful stretch. At many points throughout the race I found myself wondering “Why exactly am I doing this to myself?” but I’m glad I did. I proved to myself that I can do something if I set my mind to it, and I can push through physical discomfort, which I had never been good at before. Immediately after the race, my housemate Lisa and I were convinced we were done with long distance running, and perhaps running in general. She was really dehydrated and I could barely stand because my legs were so sore. By the time we got back to the Jackson House (thankfully Tim fared much better and was able to drive), we were reconsidering our aversion to running and tentatively making plans to run another race (in the distant future, of course). Now that I know it didn’t kill me, I want to try again and actually be able to run the whole thing.

It might not seem like the half marathon and recommitment are related, apart from happening around the same time, but both were giant leaps of faith for me. In a way, I feel like my time at CAP is like a marathon (although a much less painful one). It isn’t always perfect, and it isn’t always easy, but at the end I’m going to be able to step back and say “That was a great thing I did, and it was worth it.”

“As your faith is strengthened you will find that there is no longer the need to have a sense of control, that things will flow as they will, and that you will flow with them, to your great delight and benefit.” – Emmanuel Teney

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming. She is a member of Jackson Volunteer Community.

Two weeks ago, I had my last classes at Tyner, my favorite school. (I know teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but I can’t help it. This was the school where I spent the most time, so I got to know the kids really well.) It was also my first time leading a lesson that I had planned by myself. Usually, we have a set curriculum that we follow, but since there were so few snow days this year, we finished everything we needed to with a couple weeks to spare, and I had the opportunity to do a lesson on whatever I wanted. I decided to focus on “Conscience and Character.”  One of the most nerve-racking things about making your own lesson is that you have no idea how it’s going to work when used with actual children. My lesson was a combination of various games that I had found online or in various resources at camp, but since I had never played the games myself, I wasn’t positive that they would work the way I wanted them to.

Luckily, my games worked really well, and one worked even better than I had hoped. There is no amount of planning that can prepare you for the individual personalities and dynamics that make up a classroom, a lesson that I relearn every week. The first game we played was a little like “Hot and Cold.” After giving the students definitions of “character” and “conscience” I sent one volunteer out of the room. I then told the other students that I was going to hide one of the dry-erase board erasers and asked for a few students to be the consciences. These students were to tell my volunteer where the eraser was – but they weren’t allowed to talk loudly or point. The rest of the class was allowed to talk as loud as they wanted and point in all different directions, but they had to try to mislead the volunteer. I then brought the volunteer back into the room, told him what he was doing, and then let the kids go. Naturally, the room erupted in noise, and the volunteer looked everywhere but where the eraser was actually hidden. Now comes the part I couldn’t have planned if I wanted to. In one class, one of the people who was a conscience got up and started following around the searcher, who ignored him for quite awhile before finally listening and finding the eraser. This perfectly illustrated the point of my game:  it can be really easy to ignore the quiet voice in your head that’s telling you the right thing to do.

The part of my lesson that I am most proud of was my creation of a Giving Tree. I decided that a story was a great way to end the school year, so I read the students Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. (If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. You can find it on YouTube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TZCP6OqRlE) I then asked the students to think about something that they could give, and had them write their ideas on a leaf, which I used to create a tree. It was really wonderful reading all their ideas – some of them were very simple, like gum or old toys, but others were a little more creative, like a smile or a hug.

As the last class got ready to leave, one of the students announced that everyone in the class should give my a hug, so they had me stand at the door while they left, and everyone hugged me as they went by. I felt like I was in a receiving line at a wedding or something. I feel so lucky to have gotten to spend an entire year with those students, and I am definitely going to miss them. Thankfully, the after-school reading program continues for another couple weeks, so I still get to go into the school. Last week when I was there, one of the students saw me walk by and came running out of her classroom. She was immediately followed by half her class, and I had about 10 students mobbing me with hugs. It’s such a great feeling to have impacted them so much that they missed me after only a week.

I really think that the most important thing we offer the children is our presence. Sure we’re teaching them about budgets and bullying and peer pressure, but what they remember isn’t necessarily the information, but the stories we share and the games we play with them. I can tell that my presence is important by the way the after-school kids are excited to see me, even though I only see them once a week for a couple hours. And sometimes it’s the littlest things that mean the most to them. A few weeks ago, I was hanging out with some of the kids outside. The one little boy had a hula-hoop and was pretending he was driving a bus. I was sitting next to him, so I decided I was going to ride the bus. I got him to take me to Dairy Queen and Pizza Hut and the mall. I even got a couple other kids who were just sitting around to come “ride the bus” with me. I didn’t think much of it until the next week when that little boy wanted me to sit next to him at snack and asked me why I hadn’t been there since the week before. This kid had been coming to after-school since the beginning of the year, but I had never spent much time with him until we played bus driver. It was probably only five minutes of the day, but it stuck with him.

My time in the schools, and especially at Tyner, has taught me how valuable time and attention are. It’s really amazing how much difference a little special attention can make in the life of a child.

“Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.” – Mother Teresa

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming. She is a member of Jackson Volunteer Community.

WorkFest is here! I’ve been hearing about WorkFest for about as long as I’ve known about CAP. I came as a perspective volunteer around this time last year, so of course everyone was talking about it, and I’ve been very eager to experience it for myself. So far, it has not disappointed. I really love the atmosphere up at camp – it’s so nice to have the camp so full and busy. I love the feelings of preparation and anticipation on Sundays before the students arrive. It’s been really exciting for me to be able to share my passion for service and CAP with others.

I also decided that I would spend three days last week working with a crew. (The students are divided into color crews and each crew works at a specific job site.) Although I’m really glad I took the opportunity to do some housing work, what I learned from last week is that I am definitely not cut out for construction. Monday, Day 1, was absolutely freezing. It was actually snowing on Monday morning so we weren’t able to leave as early as we were supposed to – but I made very good use of the delay by sledding/sliding down a hill at camp. When we finally made it out to the job site I quickly realized that I didn’t even know how to swing a hammer properly. I spent a great deal of Monday wondering what I could have been thinking when I asked to go out with a crew. I couldn’t feel my toes and I felt like I was hitting the same nail over and over again without any effect (not actually that far from the truth). I also learned that I don’t deal well with being physically unable to do something. I experienced the kind of desperate frustration while trying to hammer as I used to feel when doing an art project or trying to build something for physics class. Not a good feeling. There’s something especially terrible about knowing how something should work or look and not being able to accomplish it.

I’m not sure I would have made it through Monday if it weren’t for my crew leader (and housemate) Laura. She continually yelled encouraging things at me (and everyone else) and seemed to truly believe I was capable of attaching siding when I was pretty sure I wasn’t. At the end of Monday, I admitted to her that I really didn’t like housing – that I liked the idea of WorkFest and a group of people coming together and doing service, but that the reality of construction work was not my favorite. She was very encouraging and reminded me that this was what service was – doing something because it has to be done, not necessarily because it’s fun to do. It was an important reminder to me that I am incredibly lucky to have a job that I enjoy and that service isn’t always hanging out with 4th graders.

The weather was much warmer on Tuesday, which already meant that it was a better day. My hammering also improved, at least marginally, so I felt a little more useful. The best part of the day was that the home owner came over to see how we were doing. She is a lovely woman and seemed very happy with our work. She had been moving back and forth between her two daughters’ houses while her house was being built, so she is very excited to be able to move in. It was especially good to see her because I had somehow forgotten that we were building the house for someone. I was so wrapped up in my own frustrations that I had forgotten about the greater purpose. Her visit really put our work in perspective and allowed me to laugh off the fact that we had to redo the soffit I had spent several hours painstakingly nailing. By the end of the day, I could barely lift my hammering arm, but I was feeling much more at peace with the work I was doing.

Wednesday was even better. I felt useful and competent, and and was able to put up soffit across the front of the house almost entirely on my own. I wasn’t exactly sad that it was my last day working on a crew, but I had come to appreciate the experience. I have so much respect and admiration for my housemates – I have no idea how they do this week in and week out. I was absolutely exhausted at the end of each day and spent the entire week doing nothing but working, eating, and sleeping.

Last week I found a job for which I am much better suited: donut duty! It is WorkFest tradition that once a week someone delivers donuts to each work site as kind of a thank you and pick-me-up. This year, we also gave everyone Ale-8 (a Kentucky soft drink that is kind of like ginger ale). It’s a lot of driving to get to all the sites, but it’s also extremely rewarding. I got to see what everyone was working on and spend a little time with each crew. Naturally, I was also everyone’s favorite person because I came bearing gifts. Driving to all the sites gave me an opportunity to drive on a lot of roads that I had never driven down before. Since I usually go into schools, I tend to only drive on main roads – and it was great to see how people lived a little bit off the beaten path. A lot of the houses that the crews are fixing are in absolutely beautiful locations – one is right near a stream and another overlooks a farm – but there is still a lot of work to be done on all the houses.

It’s so exciting to see people come together and work toward a common goal. I really love the feeling of camaraderie that develops amongst the crews as the week progresses. On Friday mornings, students are given an opportunity to share what they’ve learned and experienced during their time at WorkFest, and it was beautiful to hear what they had to say. I’m so glad that I get to be a part of this event that changes lives – not just the lives of the people’s whose houses we’re fixing, but also the lives of the volunteers who fix them.

“Coming together is a beginning; keeping together is progress; working together is success.” – Henry Ford

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming. She is a member of the Jackson Vounteer Community.

Kids have been asking about Camp AJ since we started going into the schools in September. I remember one girl in particular asking us when summer camp would be starting again. (Um, not until the summer. It is called “summer camp.”) A few weeks ago, the inquiries about camp started up again and that same girl even brought in her brochure from last year. It was clearly well-loved, as evidenced by the worn-out creases that tore when she let her friend look at it. (Luckily I was able to smooth over that near-disaster with a piece of tape). Eager to get her hands on a new brochure, she asked us if we had any. We told her no, we hadn’t printed any out yet, and she asked us when they’d be ready. “Next month,” we said. “Ok, so as soon as it’s March, you’ll have them?” “Well, no, it will probably be more toward the end of March.” “Oh,” she said, looking a little sad, but I assured her that as soon as we made the new brochures, she would have one. Naturally, she asked about them again today. (And we still haven’t made them, being a little preoccupied with getting the camp in order for WorkFest.)

I find myself starting to get a little irritated at the constant requests for brochures. To me, summer seems ages away… after WorkFest and Kick Butts Day and the teen retreat… but then I remember what it was like when I got home from Girl Scout camp. All my non-camp friends got really irritated at my nonstop talk about camp, and I’m pretty sure my parents were ready to send me back for repeatedly singing camp songs. I have a ton of great memories from the couple weeks I spent at horse camp as well as the countless times my Girl Scout troop went camping. I actually still remember a lot of the songs, and about a month ago at dinner my housemates and I had a wonderful time comparing songs from our different camps (turns out the Girl Scouts are rather morbid – who knew?) Camps in general are places that many people hold sacred, and Camp AJ is no different. In fact, it is probably more special than most because it is the only opportunity many of the kids will have to do anything like this. Most Camp AJ campers come from families who would never be able to afford a $200 a week camp. At $10 a week, Camp AJ gives campers a safe place to just be kids. I don’t speak from experience, because I’ve yet to enjoy the magic that is summer camp at AJ, but I’ve heard enough stories and seen enough pictures to know that it is an incredible place to be. And when I remember that, I find myself wondering when we’re finally going to print out some brochures.

“It’s where we go, and what we do when we get there, that tells us who we are.” – Joyce Carol Oats

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming. She is a member of the Jackson Volunteer Community.

Camp Andrew Jackson, the CAP summer camp at which I am placed, has been under construction since I arrived. When I first got here in August, the office building, where I’d been interviewed as a perspective, was only a shell of its former self. The inside had been torn out and basically all that was left were the outside walls. The spaces above the cafeteria and camper dorms were being remodeled for use as office space. The first few weeks I was here it seemed like all we did was move stuff back and forth. We had a giant trailer to keep some of what had been stored in the office, but we were also using the cafeteria and dorms as storage, moving pillows and towels from place to place as we needed the space it was occupying. For a few days it was impossible to sit in the cafeteria because of the pounding from above and the showers of sawdust that followed. Another day I got to rip out trim in the area that has become my office.

Before long, the former office building was just a pile of rubble, and soon after it was a foundation. Then, in October, a group from Fox Valley in Wisconsin came and built the new building (a counselor dorm, paid for by a grant CAP had received). After Fox Valley left, various Housing crews put on the siding. Even before Christmas, the outside looked complete. The inside, of course, was another story. CAP maintenance and various others have been working tirelessly on the wiring, plumbing, tile, drywall and other things that go into building a building that I know nothing about. You can see pictures of Fox Valley’s work and other parts of the Camp AJ renovation here.

Last month, I got to help paint the inside walls. Liz (my manager) recruited help from various other CAP programs and it was really awesome to see everyone come together to help complete the building. The dorm is still not finished, but every day it gets a little bit closer. Friday when I went in I saw that the cabinets had been put in the kitchen, the stairs had been carpeted, and there were fans hanging on the outside decks. I spent the afternoon teaching, and by the time I got back the sink and microwave were installed in the kitchen and the vanities were in the bathrooms.

The process of constructing a building is really incredible to me. Obviously, I knew that it was more than just putting up walls and slapping on some paint, but it’s been really enlightening to watch this building go up. It’s about the closest that we humans can get to making something from nothing. (Because let’s face it, most of us could not take boards and nails and make them into a safe, functioning building.) In the grand scheme of things I contributed very little to this building project (cleaning up drywall dust, painting a stairwell and painting some window trim), but it’s a very cool feeling to look at the stairwell and think “If it weren’t for me, this wall would not be this color.” I don’t think I’d ever be able volunteer for a year in Housing like some of my housemates (I’m too much of a wimp about the weather), but I am looking forward to WorkFest (a building blitz we have in March with about 400 college students)t and the opportunity to create something for someone who really needs it.

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming. She is a member of the Jackson Volunteer Community.

On Mondays I get to have the pleasure of hanging out with two fourth graders who I’m going to call Mason and Cory. They are two of my favorite kids that I get to help with reading. I can’t say exactly why, but they really need my help and they’re a lot of fun.  Their reading skills are very low – in fact, they’re practically non-readers.  Their attention often wanders from the task at hand as well.

Whenever they see me, they always have something that they want to tell me.  They tell me about all of their scrapes and scratches.  “Did I show you my elbow?  I scraped it falling off my bike,” or ”My cousin hit me yesterday.”

They show concern for my well being and make suggestions for things that I should do.  “You’re not married?  Are you lonely?” or “Have you ever ridden a dirt bike?  I have.  You should do it.”

They are sometimes humorous when I help them with their reading.  Sometimes they make completely random guesses about what certain words are or what the answer to a question is.  Cory will get this questioning “Huh, huh, how ’bout this one?” look on his face which is both funny and unfortunate.

They show me all of the new knick knacks that they have aquired.  One day Cory or Mason (I don’t remember who was the owner because they both fiddled with it) showed me his Chinese handcuffs.  Another day Mason showed me his eraser puzzle, which was pretty cool, I must say.

This is not the frog, but you get the idea.

The other day Cory came over with a little hot pink frog with a tab at the back that makes it so that you can make the frog hop.  He showed it to me.

“You can have this. It jumps like this.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“I found it in my desk.  You can have it.”

I decided to accept his gift.  Because A:  I don’t like to refuse children’s gifts and B:  Lord knows, Cory does not need another distraction at his desk.

However, I have hit upon a problem.

When I got back to the community center, I pulled the little pink frog from my bag and put it on my desk.

And then, it started distracting me.  Apparently I’m not much better than Cory.  I’ll be sitting there, brainstorming lesson plan ideas, when WHOOSH! out my hand rushes.  And POP!  up the frog jumps.  And then I fiddle with it.  I make it hop from one side of the desk to the other.  I accidentally make it hop off of the desk.  I examine its pink plastic body.  I roll it around it in my fingers.

Maybe my partner in crime Mike (Well, he’s kind of the boss of me so maybe “partner” isn’t the correct term.  He is the ringleader - and I am his minion.) should confiscate the little pink frog from me.

Naw, never mind.

He doesn’t need any distractions either.

And the little pink frog is distracting.

Elizabeth L. is a long-term volunteer at CAP’s Eagle Child and Family Development Center. She is a member of the McCreary Volunteer Community.

I wasn’t sure what to expect the first time I went to the Lord’s Gym (a CAP partner with whom I spend part of my time). I had heard a lot about it, but I didn’t really have a mental picture. What I found when I arrived was a slightly dilapidated old building that reminded me of a high school gym from an inspirational sports movie: you know, the one that becomes a symbol of the seemingly hopeless team that manages to overcome all obstacles and win the big game. In other words, I saw a gym that had seen better days, but I also saw potential. I felt like the coaches must feel in those movies, thinking “Well, there’s not a lot to work with, but I bet we can do something great.”

Working at the Gym for the first time was intimidating. Aside from Kerri, another CAP volunteer, I was the only female there, and I am admittedly very bad at making small talk even under the best of circumstances. I didn’t want to interrupt their basketball games and I wasn’t sure what to talk about when they were over. Tim (the other CAP volunteer there) had the distinct advantage of being male and therefore able to bond with the guys while shooting hoops. Eventually I summoned up my eighth grade basketball skills and will occasionally join in, but mostly I still feel bad subjecting everyone to my extremely poor ball skills. Because these guys are good. It was at the Gym that I first realized how big a deal basketball is in Kentucky. These were mostly guys who were not playing on any teams, but who still spent three hours at the Gym playing pick-up games and shooting around. All of them can sink three-pointers with ease and there are a few I’ve seen make shots from half court.

In addition to watching more basketball then I have in my life (including when I was actually playing in elementary school), I’ve been able to see growth in some of the guys that come to the Gym, which has been really awesome. The Gym is a place where people of all ages come to play ball, and the whole age thing doesn’t seem to matter. There’s one guy in particular who’s really good about letting the younger kids play and making sure that they actually get the ball. I’ve also seen some of the older kids giving pointers to the younger and less experienced players.

Part of what we do at the Gym is lead a devotion about halfway through the night. This means that we have everyone stop playing ball for 10 or 15 minutes and play another game with them, usually with some sort of lesson attached. Then we close with prayer and let them return to their games. The first couple nights we did this, our request to stop playing ball was met with a lot of groans. People were there to play basketball, and they didn’t want to give us any of their time. There are still some complaints, and there are inevitably people who justhappen to have to leave right before devotion, but there are also people who’ve started getting excited about devotions, and who eagerly participate in the games.

One of the biggest changes I’ve seen at the Gym has been very recent. About a month ago, the Gym’s board decided to make Tuesday “Ladies’ Night” in an effort to get more women into the Gym (and by “more” women I mean women, period). Since the Ladies’ Night started, there have been a few Monday nights when there have been women there – almost unheard of before. There are also several families that have started coming in and working out together. It’s so encouraging to see people utilizing the Gym and taking their health seriously.

The Gym may still be a little run-down, and it may struggle to pay its heating bills every winter, but it is an important part of life in Jackson County. It gives kids a place to go to stay out of trouble, adults a place to stay in shape, and families a place to start working on a healthy lifestyle.

“Sometimes the best way to figure out who you are is to get to that place where you don’t have to be anything else.” – Unknown

Erin C. is a long-term volunteer in Educational and Recreational Programming, a program of Christian Appalachian Project affiliated with Camp Andrew Jackson. She is a member of the Jackson Volunteer Community.