“Our deepest fear is not that we are
inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”
Working at the institute had become routine: grab the sign-in
sheets, fix the nametags on the table, collect paperwork, first trainer, keep
the kids away, break time, second trainers, keep the kids from chatting, grab
the sign-out sheets, breathe. It was a routine that others may have found
monotonous or dull, but one that I found filling.
But today was the last day of this routine. The end of the first
half of our trip. Graduation.
From day
one, I knew that graduation was going to be a hard day for me. Not only did I
have to wear a dress, which is a form of torture in and of itself, but also I had
to face my irrational fear of goodbyes.
I am afraid of a lot of things: the future, the dark, the
boogie-man, change (both types), spiders, getting old (the list goes on but I
don’t want to bore you). But the thing I am most afraid of is saying goodbye. I
am so bad at saying goodbye that I have created an ingenious way of avoiding
them—not saying goodbye--and I have tricked myself into believing that if I don’t
say goodbye to someone I will eventually see them again.
But today I had to face my fear and say goodbye.
The only experience I have with gradations
are the ones I have been a part of and the ones I have attended, which brings
me to a grand total of four graduations (I think). In these four ceremonies
everyone was dressed in the classic “cap and gown” get up (yes there were leis
on leis on leis) and walked the stage when their name was called. Easy, Breezy,
Beautiful, Graduation.
Today was different. Today’s graduation was not the cap and gown
graduation I was so accustom to (there were no leis!). Instead it was pant suits
and ties, awards to community members, a lunch-in, and, the cherry on top, a
dance number (all graduations from here on out should include dance numbers,
they make everything better). It was graduation that celebrated the hard work
of the kids.
While the graduation was not one that warranted tissues and
waterproof mascara it was still one that marked the end. And ends mark the need
for goodbyes, change, and the future coming closer. (Not sure you caught that
the three things I listed also fall under the category of things Taylor is
afraid of, but they do.
But it wasn’t until Mike came up to me and asked, “You good Serg?”
(Mike calls me Serg, short for sergeant, because I am bossy/lead the group)
that I realized how “not good” I was because I have become so invested. These
kids were not just a service project for me. They were my friends. And I wasn’t
ready to say goodbye.
The institute and its roughly 70 students and four career advisors
taught me so much, from slang (jit—a kid, someone who is young) to my strengths
and weaknesses as a leader, and it showed me my career interests in action. And
I would like to think that in between the millions of things I learned I was
able to teach others a thing or two too.
Actually, I hope I didn’t teach the kids anything because I don’t
know if I have much to teach. Instead I hope that my desire to hold them to a
different/higher standard than they are usually held to taught them to hold
themselves to that same level because they are capable of more.
Why? Because I watched Coach Carter on the third day of the
institute (if you haven’t seen it please go watch it because it’s an amazing
movie about a great true story) and realized that he not only held them to a
high standard for their fitness and skill level on the court, but off the court
too. Instead of standing on a soap box and telling the kids they need to do
better in school he simply expected them to do better. So I hope I did that.
But who knows if we, or I, made an impact on these kids? Who knows
if they even caught on to my dream to be Coach Carter and hold them to a higher
standard? Who knows if they will even remember these three weeks?
And while I struggle with goodbyes, I survived graduation. I said
my goodbyes. But I will not let go. While the memories of this summer may fade
away (because I am terrible at remembering things) the lessons I have learned
will not be lost on me.
So here to the end of the institute, to the good and the bad days,
to the new friends, the leadership workshops, and most of all here’s to the end
of long winded, stream-of-conscious-thought blog post.
Over and Out,
Taylor Doty
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