Jen's Journal

Day 5

Our morning was spent volunteering in a local church basement with an organization called “Thrive DC.” This was truly my favorite experience during our week long journey for many reasons. Not only did we provide help to upwards of one hundred individuals, but we also were able to interact with and make connections with people on several levels rather than doing behind the scenes work. Some people drifted about the room displaying their obvious mental illnesses shouting and instigating. Others quietly sat at a table only moving when their table number was called to proceed to the food line. Many came over to my station to get everyday supplies such and a comb, lotion, tooth paste/brush, and they would then ask to be signed up to take a shower. Initially many asked for their supplies and returned to their table to wait, but as time passed and they realized we were “the new kids” and they wanted to know as much about us as we wanted to learn about them.

My “ah ha moment” of the trip however came towards the end of session with Thrive DC. The food was nearly gone and seconds had been announced. Many people had already left but others were lingering for emotional support or perhaps a last bit of warmth. When my toiletry station was nearly depleted I joined a nearby table with a young man who was working on “word poetry.” If you are not familiar with word poetry, imagine hundreds of tiny magnetic words mixed in a basket and sorting them out to form sentences, or in our case poetry.

As I sat and helped the young man create a poem, I soon realized it was not about the sentences he struggled to create, but rather, it was about the time, encouragement, and support I gave to him and the acceptance he felt. When they called for clean up time, he was the first one to spring up off his chair and tell me, “we have to clean up.” He started tossing the words back into the box and then proceeded to help me fold up all the tables and chairs. Just when I thought there was nothing left to do, he grabbed the mop and made sure every last bit of the floor was clean. He so badly wanted to help and be accepted but despite his efforts, his life remained a struggle.

After talking with some of the program workers, I found out he was originally from Mexico and had come to America in hopes of a better life. He had recently moved from Atlanta because Washington DC offers more resources. Considering English was his second language and the fact that he had some mild learning disabilities, he needed the additional assistance. He was the type of person that really pulled at my heart and even twisted it a little as he walked out the door. The joy on his face from simple moments we shared made me feel wonderful and I truly believe he made me a better person that Thursday morning. I only wish I had a picture to share with you regarding this powerful day in my heart.